Survival of the Fittest
by asexualvampire
Summary: Logan is a research scientist who has lived on The Ark for his entire life. Will he survive life on The Ground? End S1; S2.
1. Past the Point of No Return

The Ark was running out of air. This was no longer a secret. Chancellor Jaha had told the people of The Ark the situation, there would be no more secrets and hopefully, no more sacrifices. Logan had been brought up by a single mother and was an only child, his father Charles had been floated for hoarding items and taking more than his own share, and his mother Rose had sacrificed herself to give The Ark and her only son more time to survive. Logan had not stopped feeling depressed and upset for the past three days after that had happened, and now everything seemed to be getting worse. The young scientist had worked and lived in the Australian station for his entire 21 years of life. Before his parents passed, his father had been a previous member of the council and his mother had been a secretary, taking care of documents and logistics.

Swallowing, Logan bit back the tears as he tied his thick mousy brown hair into a bun at the top of his head and fixed the position of his glasses on his nose. He was starting to learn that death was a part of life, and even though it was difficult for him to go on without his mother who had always had his back, Logan knew that he had no choice. Rose would not have wanted him to give up hope or let his depression overcome him. Sometimes Logan was saddened that he barely remembered his father Charles, but the former council member had died when he was only 5 years old. It did not matter anymore – they were both in a better place – and Logan would probably soon join them. Since Logan was only an assistant scientist and worked more on the pathological side of research, he felt useless when it came to trying to fix the mechanical problems on The Ark. A call had gone out for the remaining survivors to go to their stations and buckle themselves in.

The Ark was going to the ground.

Logan could hear his breathing becoming ragged as his anxiety started to rise in his chest. What if this plan didn't work? Did the engineers know what they were even doing? Logan had already been through so much already in such a short period of time, but then again so had everyone on The Ark. Their only hope was to try and land on the ground. From what Logan had heard, there were not only the child prison survivors down there, but also savages and who knew? Of course, Logan was interested to see what affect the radiation had had on the environment, but he did not have time to think about that now.

Closing his eyes, Logan leaned his head against the metal wall behind him. He could hear Jaha's voice over the speaker, but otherwise he ignored everything around him. Logan knew there was no point in trying to pay attention as it would only make his fear worse. Tears pricked at his eyes underneath his eyelids, and the young scientist tried to blink them away. A single tear travelled slowly down his cheek, which Logan ignored. He was scared, and he did not have his mother to protect him. No, Logan needed to protect himself. The cold metal behind his head was hard and uncomfortable, but the young scientist did not dare to move. He listened to the countdown over the speaker, subconsciously holding his breath.

"3… 2… 1…" Thelonious Jaha said in his deep, gravelly voice.

Nothing happened.

Panic began to rise up in Logan's chest, his head swung around looking at those near him, several locks of hair slipping from his bun. Blue grey eyes with gold rims around the pupils flicked from the different faces around him, silently pleading them to explain what was going on. Why didn't it work? Then suddenly, a loud explosion seemed to shake the station. Gripping the straps that had buckled him in even tighter, Logan closed his eyes. Even though he had lived on a space station for his entire life, Logan had never experienced one moving. His stomach churned as he tried his best not to vomit this early in the trip. So it turned out that Logan suffered from motion sickness, well this was going to be fun. Now, all Logan could think about was getting through this alive. If he survived at all. Logan was such a small person, standing at a mere 5'0" in height, he looked like nothing most other occupants of The Ark. He was too nervous and scared to try and work out if this was a good thing or a bad thing, as he doubted that looking like an 18 year old would help very much.

Logan coughed a little, causing some vomit to spray out in front of him resulting in disgusted looks from the people he was sitting next to. His head swam from the strange motion sickness he was currently experiencing, only worsened by his rising anxiety. The station shook violently and Logan smashed the back of his head against the metal wall. Pain buzzed around his head as everything seemed to throb. Then, the station went black as Logan's eyes closed and his body went limp.

It felt like only a second had passed when Logan regained consciousness again. The first thing he noticed was searing pain coming from his left leg, blood oozing out from underneath a large metal chunk that had stabbed itself into his thigh. His vision was strained because the glass in his glasses was cracked, but they were still intact enough to see.

"Fuck," Logan swore, his eyes watering at the pain as he scrunched them shut.

A few seconds later, it hit Logan that the air tasted different. He was alive! Opening his eyes again, Logan looked around. Tall, strong looking trees towards above him, while a part of his station was to the left, smashed into a tree that was now collapsed. Smoke seemed to be everywhere from the crash, which stun his eyes and only made the tears worse. As Logan grew more used to the pain in his thigh, he blinked, trying to take in his surroundings. It seemed like he was in the middle of a forest, but from where he was lying, Logan could not see very much. Bracing himself, Logan used his arms to push himself up into a sitting position, crying out in pain as he accidentally moved his injured leg.

Everything here was so… _Green_. The trees were thick, brown and so tall that Logan could not even make out where they ended. From this distance, Logan could tell that the bark on these trees were rough like the ones he had read in his books back when The Ark was whole. The ground was covered in dirt, and Logan reached down with his left hand to touch the new substance tentatively. Once he rationalised that it was safe, he dug his hand into the dirt and pulled up a handful, watching with interest as the grains of dirt and bark fell from his pale hand to the ground. He had never imagined it being like this. The nearby wreckage seemed to be out of place, although he did not know where the majority of the crash site would be.

And then he saw the body.

Right next to him was the stiff corpse of the woman who had sneered at him back in space. Logan reeled, trying to hold in his vomit. However, when he turned his gaze away from the woman he stared right into the glazed, unseeing eyes of a teenager, whose body was completely torn in half. That was the point of no return for Logan, and he vomited to the side, coughing up some blood as he did so. That was not good. Not allowing himself to look at the dead bodies around him, Logan checked his leg.

The piece of lodged metal was fairly deep, but as far as he could tell it had not damaged any nerves so he could still feel everything. Logan was no doctor, but he did have some understanding of the human body, and he knew enough that if he removed the shard of metal he would most likely bleed to death. He then felt the back of his head and winced in pain, bringing his blood covered hand back. Shaking a little, Logan wiped his hand on his shirt, smearing blood over the mottled grey material. He most likely had other injured, but they did not pain him as much as his head and leg so they couldn't be that dangerous. If Logan was going to have any luck trying to find survivors at the main wreckage, he would need to stand.

Gritting his teeth, Logan looked around for the nearest tree, he would not be able to stand up without any aid. Using his arms and good left leg, Logan began to drag himself to a tree that was about three metres away. Logan fought through the pain, and once he reached the tree, grabbed onto it. He tried to use it to pull himself up, but there was nothing on the rough trunk for him to grasp on to. Groaning, Logan used the tree as something to lean on as he pushed himself up, wincing and crying out in pain whenever he moved his injured leg a little too much. Of course, Logan could always try and remove the shard of metal and bandage it himself, but he was too unsure about what could happen and did not know how deep the injury was. No, it was best to leave it in for now. It took him a good minute and a half to finally stand, his back leaning against the tree as he gasped for breath, keeping as much weight off his injured leg as possible.

Logan was lucky to be alive, but he wouldn't be for much longer unless he found some help.


	2. Act of Desperation

As Logan walked with difficulty, his black leather boots crunched the dry leaves beneath his feet. Wincing in pain, Logan started off in a randomly selected direction, hoping that it might lead him towards the crash site. However, Logan had never had a good sense of direction. It took him a while to remember the way to get to places, and countless times throughout his youth Logan had gotten himself lost on The Ark. He turned his head left and right, becoming startled at every little noise that he heard. The pain from his left thigh was intense, and even though Logan had gotten used to it by now, it still hurt every time he took a step. Taking a break, Logan looked down at his blood. Blood was starting to ooze from the wound, although it was difficult to see because of his black coloured skinny jeans. Swallowing his pride, Logan continued on.

It felt like Logan had been walking for hours when he thought he could hear running water. The thought that maybe he was hearing things due to the pain and dehydration Logan was suffering, but even so, he did not want to look past this twice. He could feel his muscles starting to give way with each step, his body screaming out for water and relief. Stopping to listen to the sound grow louder, Logan was certain that he was not just hearing things, and turned his body towards the sound. Stumbling through the trees, Logan nearly burst when he saw a stream of clear looking water. Rushing towards it and falling hard on the ground near the water, crying out in pain, Logan scurried towards the stream and cupped his hands in the water. Bring the water to his lips, Logan drank to the point where he ended up physically sticking his face into the water to drink, the pain in his thigh temporarily forgotten.

Sitting back, Logan groaned as he moved his leg a little too fast. Now that he felt a bit more refreshed, the young survivor could take a moment to look at his wound. He was originally going to leave it alone, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to walk and Logan knew he would not survive if he did not do anything about it. He had water, so at least he could clean the wound. Inching a bit closer to the stream, Logan ignored the rocks and pebbles that dug into him as he sat. Bracing himself, Logan positioned both his hands on the shard of metal. A good 10cm of metal was sticking out of his leg, which was about 5cm thick. As he went to remove the metal, Logan pulled it up slightly then cried out in pain, biting down on his cheek.

"C'mon Logan, you can do this. You have to," he muttered, his voice raspy from the lack of use.

Taking a deep breath, Logan started pulling out the small sheet of metal. He scrunched his eyes shut as tears started to form. It was excruciating, but Logan knew that he needed to pull it out. With one more pull, Logan removed the metal and discarded it on the rocks, then splashed water onto his leg, wincing in pain as the water made contact with the fresh wound.

"There," he said, talking out loud as if to reassure himself of the situation.

Logan watched the blood drain down the stream, then pulled himself away from the stream. His leg shook from what had just happened, and Logan reached down and bit into the bottom of his grey shirt, tearing it so he could rip a strip along the bottom of his shirt. Acting quickly now, Logan wrapped the makeshift bandage tightly around his thigh, tying it with a double knot so that it would not come loose. Letting out a sigh of relief, Logan leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. Opening his eyes again, Logan picked up the metal and winced at its sharp edge, then carefully ran it in the water to clean the blood from its smooth surface.

It was a strange chunk of metal, the section that had been embedded into his leg was razor sharp, while the end was slightly less so. Taking the metal and pushing it against a rock, Logan somehow managed to bend the less sharp end of the metal into a curve so that he would be able to hold it without accidentally cutting himself. There, now he had a makeshift knife. Gripping the knife with his right dominant hand, Logan glanced around and then got to his feet. He winced in pain, but found it a lot easier to do than before. Now that his head was clearer and Logan had at least tried to tend to his wound, he could continue his search for the crash site. Looking back to where he had come from, Logan wondered if he should try and retrace he steps and try a different direction.

Panic rose up in his throat at the thought. Maybe he had come too far? Shit. Spinning around slowly, Logan tried to find where he had come from, but the whole area looked the same. The trees were almost identical. Taking a deep breath, Logan swallowed. He was lost, but all he could do was keep going. His stomach grumbled from lack of food, but all Logan could do was ignore it for now. Making the decision to keep going, Logan started off towards the trees, limping slightly. His leg was weak due to blood lost and the fact that he been walking on it injured for quite a long time, although he could not say exactly how long it had been. In all honesty, Logan should rest until he regained his strength, but he did not feel safe out here, especially somewhere so open. This would be so much easier if he could just find someone. Logan had never worked well under pressure, nor did he like being alone in an unfamiliar place. Especially Earth. He had no idea what was out there, and it was entirely possible that there were strange mutated creatures and perhaps even people who had survived the nuclear fallout.

Logan didn't have time to think. He needed to move. Gripping his improvised knife, Logan slipped into the trees, holding the bent metal reassuringly. At least he had some form of protection. Rose did not sacrifice herself in vain, nor did the other 300 people who had given up their lives in the hope that the rest would survive. Logan would survive, no matter what it took. His people were down here somewhere, all he had to do was find them. These thoughts along with many others chased each other around his active mind while he walked.

Logan was far too stubborn to allow himself to give in, despite the fact that that was all he wanted to do at this point. He refused to let himself die, not when his own mother had sacrificed herself and he had already come so far. There were 12 stations that had landed somewhere in this area, and it was perfectly reasonable for others to have survived and not just himself. But then again… No, Logan could not be the only survivor. Their odds were too good and it seemed impossible. Plus, the 100 kids that had been sent down previously must be around here somewhere. From the rumours that Logan had heard, they had built a camp and there were savages roaming the woods, who they called grounders. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. So far he had not run into anything, be it human or animal. If Logan ran into a grounder, he would surely be killed. Logan's eyelids felt heavy, and he yawned which only made his head swim. Just as Logan remembered that he had bumped his head, Logan felt his mind slipping away from him as he fell to the ground, blackness surrounding him.

When Logan woke up, it only felt like he had blinked, but it was now dark. He was not sure whether it was the same day or not, but at this point Logan did not care. Squinting through the darkness as he sat up, Logan patted the ground around him trying to find his glasses, but in this lighting he could not find them. He did not really need them, and they had been cracked during the crash so where not use to him anyway. Shaking his head, Logan was able to locate his knife which had only fallen about a foot away from him. Scooping it up, Logan gripped it like it was his lifeline. He had no idea how long he had been out, but he felt like absolute shit. Logan needed food and water, but he was exhausted and too weak to do anything about it. He was in the middle of nowhere with no help whatsoever. A rustling sound scared him, causing Logan to raise the knife defensively, eyes staring around as he prepared to get to his feet. If he needed to run and make a quick escape, Logan was sure that he would be able to, but he did not know how long he would last. Out from behind a tree, Logan heard a small squeak and stared in astonishment as a small creature stepped out towards him.

The creature was small and slender, and even in the darkness Logan could tell that it was only young. As the small animal drew closer, Logan identified it as a little fawn. Why would there be a baby deer out here alone? The fawn was looking at him with large brown eyes, then turned its head to reveal a grotesque mutation which looked as if a half formed second face was growing out of its cheek and neck. Reeling backwards in shock, Logan startled the fawn for a moment, but when he stilled, the small animal tentatively came forward and sniffed at his hand.

"I guess we're both lost," Logan mused, keeping his left hand still so that he would not frighten the fawn.

Pulling himself and the fawn against a nearby tree, Logan wrapped his arms gently around the fawn, who then proceeded to lick the sweat from his bare arm. Putting the knife down next to him, Logan rested his head against the tree, his body relaxing a little. No one had tried to kill him yet, and now he had a little friend.

Perhaps there was still hope after all.


	3. Where Silent Gods Stand Guard

Leaning against the tree, Logan watched the fawn with interest as he curled up next to the young man's injured leg. The sun was setting and Logan could feel his stomach begging for food within him. Unfamiliar smells and sounds surrounded him, and Logan was beginning to have trouble seeing with his cracked glasses. After all this time that he had been alone in the woods, Logan had had other things to focus on that the fact that his broken glasses made his head hurt, and now they were gone. To be fair, his glasses had been a gift to him from his mother, so the fact that they were now lost saddened him somewhat. Then again, they were only a material item and at least now Logan was safe. Blinking again, Logan tried to get his eyes focussed on his surroundings despite the dark. At least out here he would not need to try and read anything. This thought caused a smile to play on the young man's lips as he changed his position against the tree.

The small deer lying next to him seemed to be quite comfortable, so maybe he would be safe from danger for the time being. Logan had read that down on Earth, human's had kept certain animals as pets and that they seemed to know when danger was approaching. It was most likely foolish to place his trust in a deer who was only starting to grow his antlers, but it was better than nothing. Even though Logan was still on edge about his surroundings and could not remember the last time he had eaten, tiredness overwhelmed him. Logan had not done this much exercise in a long time, nor had he gone this long without food or water. Exhaustion finally took over, his heavy eyelids closing over Logan's oddly coloured eyes as slept overcame him.

As the sun swept through the trees the following morning, Logan found himself stirring rather early. Back on The Ark he would sleep in as much as he could when allowed, but here in such an uncomfortable position outside it was much more difficult and much more dangerous. Opening his eyes and blinking around him, it took Logan a few moments for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings. At first, he thought he must still be dreaming, then he remembered what had happened to him these past few days and Logan was thrown back into reality. The fawn still lay in position beside his leg, crooning slightly as the small creature raised his head to look back at Logan. The young scientist did not think he would ever get used to the fact that the deer had two faces, but the other than that small abnormality the fawn seemed to be quite healthy. Taking a deep sigh, Logan pulled himself up off the ground and let out a groan as his bones creaked due to the terrible stiffness of his sleeping position.

The world spun for a moment as Logan felt quite light-headed. He could not remember the last time that he ate, and it was starting to get to his head. Pausing for a moment, Logan closed his eyes, trying to think the throbbing in his mind away which of course would be of no use. He needed to find some food and water, at least something to keep him going. Letting out a sigh, Logan motioned to the deer to follow him as he bent down and scooped up his knife before sticking it into the belt of his jeans. Not really caring if the fawn followed him or not, Logan set out deeper into the woods, limping slightly. He did not have the time to check his leg, but it felt a lot better than it had yesterday, and although it still hurt some when he walked, it would be enough. He stumbled for a little bit, having to stop every now and then to stop himself from fainting. The fawn raced ahead, wiggling his tail in an excited manner as he reached a bush.

"What is it, boy?" Logan asked, limping towards the bush.

Chirping happily, the fawn began nibbling at the plant and eating what seemed to be some form of berry. The berries were a dark purple in colour, something Logan had never seen before, and he swallowed in slight discomfort. He had never liked fruit, in fact, he detested the stuff. Perhaps fruit grown on the ground would be different to that that was grown in space? Logan did not have the time to be fussy, and gently knelt next to the deer and plucked some berries. His hunger overcame his tastebuds and Logan ate, the natural sugar rushing to his head and replenishing his blood glucose levels. The young man ate all he could that early in the morning without making himself sick, and then plucked a dozen of the remaining berries to gently put into his pocket. At this point, Logan did not care if they got squished as he walked, as long as he had some form of food on his person that he could salvage.

Standing up once more, Logan stretched some as he checked to make sure that he still had his pretend knife. The young buck by his side took a few more nibbles at the bush before nuzzling against Logan's leg and bounding off again, stopping and looking back expecting the man to follow. It would seem that Logan had made an unexpected friend, who knew how to survive in these woods even though he was young himself.

"Coming, Buck. Bucky," Logan whispered, stepping forward.

Of course, there was no time for him to giving mutated animals names, but the young man could not help himself. The deer was indeed a buck, albeit a young one, so the name Bucky only fit. He thought he had read the name somewhere in an old comic strip from Earth that was at least 100 years old, although he could not remember what it was from. Ignoring these thoughts, Logan followed Buck deeper into the trees, his right hand reaching for his knife whenever he heard an unfamiliar sound or there was a crack beneath his very own feet. Vigilance was key. Turning his head quickly, Logan thought he heard a noise to the left. The hairs on the back of his neck begun to stand on end, and Logan gripped his knife even tighter. At this point, he had lost sight of Bucky, although he was sure the creature would show up again.

Moving slowly between the trees, Logan drew his knife, holding it out inexperienced in front of him. He was no soldier and most definitely not a fighter. However, he had made it this far by himself which was definitely something that surprised him. Turning his head, Logan gasped as an arrow came out of no-where and embedded itself into the tree behind him. It had been so close to his head that Logan had felt it fly past his ear. Freezing in place, Logan breathed heavily, trying to look to where the arrow had come from. He had only heard rumours of the people on the ground, but Logan did not think that they would try and kill him. Ever so slowly, Logan begins to back away, eyes shifting this way and that trying to find the person who was shooting at him. Even if he tried to run, he was sure that the grounder would be quick to catch up, especially since his attacker would know these surroundings. At this rate, Logan did not know how much longer he would survive out here.

Despite his terrible long distance eye sight, Logan managed to make eye contact with a dark skinned woman hidden within the trees. The woman reached for her quiver to produce another arrow, but snarled in anger as there is none to be found. Taking his chance, Logan spins around on his heels and runs for it, ignoring the pain in his leg from the strain of his muscles against the wound. Logan can feel wetness on his leg as the stab wound begins to open again, blood seeping out of his bandage. Cursing under his breath, Logan races through the trees as fast as he could, pumping his arms as he ran. Logan could not hear the grounder behind him, but he found that even more worrying than if he could locate the attacker.

Adrenaline rushed through Logan's veins as his muscles worked hard to try and keep him alive. Logan was not used to this much physical labour, but he supposed that he had better get used to it and fast or else he would never survive out here. Hearing a snarl Logan winced as the grounder had somehow appeared in front of him, brandishing a dagger threateningly. Stepping backwards, Logan holds up his with both of his shaking hands, watching closely as the female creeps closer towards him. Logan was quite a lot smaller than this woman, who quite honestly seemed like an Amazon warrior to the young man. A growl seems to emanate from her throat as she lunges forward. Bringing up his makeshift knife to try and shield himself, Logan cries out as he steps back, the grounder slashed her dagger expertly towards the young man's face, slicing into his flesh. Shrieking in pain, Logan's left hand rushes to hold it over the right side of his face, blood dripping around his fingers.


	4. Save Me

Blood poured from the wound, obscuring Logan's vision as he stumbles backwards, dazed. Wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jack and trying to ignore the pain, Logan seemed to stare death in the face. But then there was movement behind the woman as a muscled arm comes around her neck in a sleeper hold. The woman yells in some form of primitive language before she collapsed to the ground unconscious. Logan was too overwhelmed and confused to worry about his wounds right now. It was not safe.

"What do you want from me," Logan managed to say, arms trembling as he holds his dagger out in front of him towards the even taller savage.

The man was tall and was at least 6 feet tall, perhaps even taller than that. His skin was lightly tanned due to being out in the sun, covered in cuts and strange tribal markings that Logan could not work out if they were tattoos or paint. The clothes that this strange man wore looked old and worn. Logan's instinct was telling him to run, but this grounder would take him down in a second just he had with his friend. The grounder had not attacked as of yet, and was just watching him slowly.

"Tell me," he added, swallowing hard as he gripped his dagger even tighter.

"You must leave this place," the grounder said. "Your people are that way. It is not far from here." he added, nodding his head to the left of where they stood. The tall man stepped forward, causing Logan to tense up slightly.

"Why are you helping me?" Logan stammered, not lowering down his makeshift weapon.

"Because it is right." Reaching onto his back, the grounder took off his bow and quiver, throwing them on the ground at Logan's feet, then removed his dagger from his belt and held it by its blade, holding it out to Logan. "Take it."

Swallowing, Logan reached out and gingerly took the knife, discarding his makeshift one. Moving quickly and not taking his non-bloodied eye off the grounder, Logan swung the bow and quiver onto his back before rushing into the forest, leaving the grounder and his unconscious friend without saying a word, wiping his face with his sleeve again as he ran, wincing at the pain in his leg.

Hearing a noise, Logan skidded to a stop, reaching behind him to remove his bow and an arrow. Even though he could barely see, Logan could not imagine that wielding a bow would be too difficult. The aiming would be the hard part. Knocking the arrow into place, Logan held the bow up with his left hand and pulled the string back with his right as far as he could. Arms shaking, Logan scanned the area, pointing the arrow to where he looked. When he heard another rustling in the bushes, Logan let go of the arrow, which stuck into the ground as the baby deer let out a frightened squeak and ran off. Gritting his teeth, Logan pulled the arrow out from under the ground and returned it to the quiver, glad that his aim was terrible and had not hit the small creature. Stumbling through the grove, Logan held his hand over his injured eye, wincing in pain as the blood slipped flowed between his fingers. He felt like he was walking blindly through the wilderness, which was exactly what he was doing. Logan was running for God knew how long, until he finally pushed out of the thick of trees in front of a wreckage of the Ark surrounded by fencing.

"Stop right there!" a voice shouted, causing Logan to stop abruptly. Squinting, Logan looked up to see a man pointing a machine gun at him. "You're from the Ark," the man said, lowering his weapon in realisation. "Come, quickly. You're injured."

The man led Logan into the camp, helping to support his weight from his injured leg. The researcher did not even bother trying to talk, just overwhelmed that he was safe. Entering the camp, Logan did not have the energy to look around and take in the sight before him, as he was rushed to the medical bay as quickly as possible. He remembered Abby from the Ark. She was a former council member, and he had worked with her on samples in the lab several times and had even helped with patients before. Abby recognised Logan immediately, gently getting him to lie down on the bench. For the next few hours, Logan kept slipping in and out of consciousness as his wounds were attended to. Stitching was sewn into the massive gash on his face. The ground did not have the equipment to do anything about Logan's right eye, which was damaged beyond repair. The deep wound in his leg was also treated with stiches and wrapped up with clean bandages.

When Logan became conscious, he let out a groan, blinking up at the tarp that shielded the medical bay. It was only now that he realised that he could not see anything out of his right eye. Panic rose in his throat as he rushed to sit up, causing his head to swim for a moment from nausea.

"Easy, easy," Abby spoke soothingly, walking closer and putting a soft hand on his shoulder. "You're safe now."

"Abby? There was a grounder. Tried to kill me. But another one, he saved me. Where's the bow?" Logan asked, eyes looking around the area frantically. He had felt safe with the bow, even though Logan did not know how to use it, it made him feel less vulnerable.

"Don't worry about that now, there are no grounders here. I need to know if there were any other survivors from your station." The chancellor said, looking at Logan with kind brown eyes.

"I… I don't know," Logan stammered, swallowing at the thought of the severed bodies that had surrounded him. "There was blood. Bodies. I was on a part that got separated from the main station… I don't know where it is," he added, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"Come on, I'll take you to your tent so that you can get some rest. You deserve it," Abby said, helping Logan to stand up on his injured leg and take him to a makeshift bed of blankets.

Logan did not have the energy to complain, he was just relieved that he was safe and that his wounds had been looked at. Now that he could finally relax, Logan could try get himself breathing normally. Reaching up, Logan traced the slash on his face from above his eyebrow, over his right eye and down across his nose and over his lip. It was a decent cut, and he definitely knew that it would scar. Logan did not know how deep the gash in his leg was, but hopefully he would not have a permanent limp that would hinder him in such conditions. That grounder kept popping into his mind. Why had the simply terrifying man helped him? Why had he even given Logan his weapons? There was something about that grounder that seemed a bit off and almost protective to a sense, which only intrigued Logan even more. Shaking his head, Logan leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the muffled rumble of speech around him. There were so little survivors compared to the number that had attempted to land on the ground, and Logan was glad that he had survived. However, he felt tug in the pit of his stomach, the guilt that he should have died instead of some of the people that he had known pulled at his heart strings. Tears pricked at his eyes at the thought, causing Logan to close them even tighter and curl up his body, ignoring the pain in his leg. Even though he was surrounded by people and some familiar faces, Logan had never felt so alone.

Throughout the next week while Logan was recovering, he did his best to help out around the base. His research skills were not very helpful in this situation, but at least he could help Abby when he could. In his spare time, Logan would practice with his bow, slowly getting used to his now singular vision. The hardest part was getting used to no longer having his glasses, but luckily after all this time his eye was growing stronger and able to hold focus for longer periods at a time. Despite keeping occupied and trying his best to be useful, a tug at the back of his mind was always drawing him to outside the camp. He felt like he had not explored this new world well enough, and was beginning to grow restless. Needing to set his mind to something, Logan decided that he needed supplies. If he was going to try sneak out of Camp Jaha in an attempt to learn more about the world, he would need something to take with him.

Early in the morning when darkness still enveloped the camp, Logan stayed low as he sneaked around the camp with a small empty backpack that had been given to him. Logan felt comfortable with his ability with a bow, since he had had a fair amount of time with nothing much else to do, so food would not be a problem. He did in fact manage to find a metal water bottle, which he filled and stuffed into the backpack. After doing this, Logan traversed to the medical bay, where he took some bandages and stitching equipment. He took enough to last, but not as much as to bring attention to the loss. Moving quickly through the dark, Logan returned to where his things were set up, propping the backpack near his sleeping bag and crawling back into his sleeping position. Logan seemed to feel a lot safer now that he had a bag of some supplies so that he could go for a wander if the opportunity presented itself. He wanted to explore.


End file.
